The Secret Keeper
by To Go Amongst Mad People
Summary: Alice lives a lonely, empty life until the day she unexpectedly finds happiness waiting for her. Will Jasper give her everything she's ever wanted? Will she reveal her biggest secret to him? O/S for the To Go Amongst Mad People Contest.


**Title:The Secret Keeper**

**Pairing:Alice/Jasper**

**Rating: M**

**Word count: 8****600**

**Summary: Alice lives a lonely, empty life until the day she unexpectedly finds happiness waiting for her. Will Jasper give her everything she's ever wanted? Will she reveal her biggest secret to him? O/S for the To Go Amongst Mad People Contest.**

**To see other entries in the To Go Amongst Mad People contest, please visit the Contest's FanFiction page:http:// www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net / u /2128870/

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_**THE SECRET KEEPER**_

_She'd never given much thought to how she would die._

_Like most people, she held romantic notions of growing old gracefully and dying peacefully in her sleep._

_Except, unlike most people, she had seen herself as an old woman, wrinkled and silvered. Her skin paper thin, her body bent and fragile, her face had been instantly familiar; and yet, it had taken her_ _a moment to realize the woman she was seeing was herself. What had stunned her more than anything else was the fact the woman she saw, the woman she would become, was happy._

Lauren Mallory clicked her bright red manicured nails against the worn and scratched surface of the dining room table. Like Lauren herself, the noise was harsh and grating, and the woman tried her best to ignore it as she studied the tarot cards laid out on the table. She held the rest of the pack in her hands, the feel of the well-worn cardboard smooth and soothing against her palms.

The cards were little more than a façade. She knew how to read them, of course, but she didn't need them. She knew her visitors felt more comfortable when they could see something tangible in front of them. Lines of tarot cards were mysterious, romantic even. The same folks who found themselves curious and intrigued by what she had to offer were also easily spooked by the true nature of her gift, and so she kept it hidden behind her beloved cards.

"So, is he cheating, or not?" Lauren spat out. Her stilettoed foot tapped the floor in irritation as she leaned over the table.

The woman had no doubt that Lauren's husband,Tyler, was indeed having an affair. After all, she'd seen Jessica Stanley drag him into the ladies toilets at the diner where she sometimes worked. It didn't take a psychic to work that one out.

"That's not what the cards say," the woman said. She hoped her bland smile would placate as the half truth slipped from her lips. She had learned long ago that few people come to hear the truth.

Deep down, Lauren knew that Tyler was sleeping with someone else, but she chose to bury those thoughts in the reassurances the woman offered her, as much as it pained her to seek it out. The reality was, for all of her brazen appearances, Lauren was simply too insecure to trust her own instincts.

Lauren sighed heavily as she plucked a crumpled twenty from her purse and almost threw it across the table. The woman remained sitting, watching as Lauren stood, adjusted her short skirt and stalked out of the house, the door rattling loudly as she slammed it behind her.

"Thank you, Alice," the woman whispered against her retreating back.

Alice pocketed the money, wishing that she didn't need to rely on the likes of Lauren Mallory to put food on the table. It left her feeling exhausted and dirty, and that she was somehow betraying herself; that she was selling little pieces of her soul to the very people that would normally not want anything to do with her. Times were tough for lots of folks in the town, and Alice was not the only one who was struggling and doing desperate things to make ends meet.

She picked up her cards and wrapped them lovingly in the silk scarf her grandmother had given her. The fabric was soft and delicate and flowed through her fingers like liquid. She brought it to her face, closing her eyes to breathe in the sweet almost-scent that reminded her of her grandmother's warm embrace. The beloved memories of being small and cherished, curled in her lap out on the deck in the rocking chair, came flooding back, filling her suddenly with longing and sadness. Her grandmother had been the only person who had really understood her, understood what it was like to live with this burden. She had been the only person who had really loved her. Alice put the cards back in their intricately carved box and shut the lid swiftly, swallowing down the bittersweet memories before they began to make her heart ache.

The street lights flickered on as she opened a can of soup to heat up for her dinner. She shivered and pulled her cardigan tight around herself as she waited for the microwave to finish. The night was cold, and Alice's heating was off again. She ate her soup slowly, the clanging of the spoon echoing in the silence as the sky darkened and the shadows fell into place.

The next morning, Alice rose early, dressing quickly in the chilly morning air. She had a rare day's work at the local diner, and she needed to be there before the breakfast regulars - the truckers and the travelers - arrived. Sue Clearwater had owned the diner for as long as most townsfolk could remember. She was a fierce woman that only a fool would cross, but underneath the gruff exterior she had a heart of gold. Her house was always full of local reservation kids looking for a meal or someone to talk to; Sue had a way of collecting the lost and the lonely like they were stray cats needing a new home. She was the one person in the town willing to offer Alice what little work she had available, recognizing her as a vulnerable, lost soul she could extend a small kindness to. But Sue was also a businesswoman first and foremost, and knowing that most folk in the town were unsettled by Alice's strange ways, she always had her work out the back where none of her customers would see her.

Alice liked working in Sue's kitchen, finding escape from her empty house in the undemanding monotony of washing dishes. The days where she could immerse herself in soap suds and fill her stomach with Sue's legendary fish fry were the days that Alice prized above all others. Sue didn't want anything more from her than a tidy kitchen; washing dishes didn't leave her feeling used and empty. She would walk home from a day's work at the diner feeling almost normal.

Alice had been just a small girl when she first realized she wasn't normal, wasn't like other children. Her grandmother had told her countless times she was special, that her gift was something for her to treasure, not fear, but the well meaning words did little to heal the pain of the sharp words that were thrown at her in the playground. The day Eric Yorkie had held her hand in an innocent gesture of friendship had destroyed any hope she may have had of learning to keep her gift a secret, of blending in, of making friends. As the tiny boy's palm touched hers, Alice had seen a vision of him floating face down in a pool of water. Innocently, she had shared what she had seen and, when Eric had been found dead two days later, drowned in a neighbor's swimming pool, Alice became the class outcast. Fear and derision would haunt the rest of her school days. No one would ever hold her hand again. Alice never shook hands in welcome, withdrawing into herself and forever avoiding touching her palm to another, avoiding the physical touch that would open the gateway to the visions which kept her apart. Apart and alone – that was Alice's childhood. Little had changed now that Alice was an adult.

The only difference was that now she kept her thoughts to herself, kept the secrets safe in silence.

It was tourist season, people flocking to the Olympic Peninsula to enjoy the rugged green landscape and the unpolluted sky. Hikers, campers and adventurers filled the diner from dawn to dusk, and Alice was kept busy, her day passing in a blur. At the end of her shift, she took Sue's cash with a murmured thanks, grateful she would be able to buy some food for her empty cupboards.

On the way home, Alice stopped at the store. As she paused to put some pasta sauce in her cart, she noticed Lauren coming down the aisle towards her. She was talking animatedly, her too-thin arms flailing in front of her as Tyler looked at the rows of tinned goods beside him with disinterest. Cringing internally, Alice pretended to be engrossed in the properties of the array of dried pasta in front of her. Alice could hear the shrill whine of Lauren's voice cutting through the bland music playing in the background. As Lauren passed by Alice, her shoulder made contact and Alice stumbled into the shelf, catching herself on the sharp metal in front of her, but not before an avalanche of pasta packets slid past her hands to the floor. Lauren continued walking as if Alice was invisible.

Sometimes, Alice wished she was.

If Alice had looked up at that moment, she would have seen a young man watching her from the end of the aisle. A stranger to the town, he wore the look of someone who was accustomed to living out of a suitcase, someone who traveled light and lonely, someone who was always passing through. He stared at her intently, a frown settling over his face as Alice picked up the offending packets and scurried down the aisle away from him.

When Alice got home from the store, she found Angela Weber waiting on her doorstep. Angela was one of Alice's regular visitors and was one of the few people who didn't make her feel uncomfortable or awkward, for Alice recognized that Angela was painted with the same desperate loneliness as she was. Angela never gave Alice money when she visited. She liked to pretend that Alice was her friend, and friends didn't pay each other to spend time together. For all intents and purposes Angela came to see Alice for the same reasons as every other person who walked through her door: for the little glimpses of future possibilities and promises that would otherwise remain shrouded in the darkness of the unknown. Alice knew that Angela found her gift intoxicating and far more tempting than she would ever admit, but Angela was the closest thing that Alice had to a friend too, and she liked to pretend that Angela visited her because that's what friends do.

Angela filled the silence with chatter as Alice unpacked her groceries and then made them both a cup of coffee. As much as Alice preferred the sound of Angela's constant chatter over the suffocating silence that usually haunted her evenings, she knew why Angela had come.

Alice sighed and reached over the table to take Angela's hands in hers. She placed her palm tight against Angela's and drew in a sharp breath as she felt herself freefall into the depths of other-consciousness.

Palm to palm. Future to future.

As Angela watched, entranced, Alice's eyes flickered across the images only she could see. Her pupils dilated, her irises moving purposefully like she was watching something move in front of her. Alice no longer saw the small and sparse room with its worn carpet or mismatched chairs. Snapshots of the future whirled before her eyes, little frozen flashes of time revealing themselves for the most fleeting of moments.

_Angela; smiling, serene; love shining bright in her eyes like a white-hot heat._

The images almost disappearing before she could register or recall them, flashing past fast and furious like cards being flipped by an overzealous casino dealer.

_Angela; belly round and breasts full; fabric taut, stretched over swollen flesh. _

Alice fought to commit something to memory before the delicate and unpredictable web between them disappeared, fighting against the veritable tide of images assaulting her to grasp something, anything, that she could pull back with herself.

_Angela; babe at breast; head bent in a kiss to a tiny head of tight curls._

Alice pulled her hand away, breaking the spidery threads of the tenuous connection between them. Breathing heavily, she slowly let go of the soft hazy stupor that Angela's vision had wrapped her in. It took a moment or two for her to adjust to being back in her own reality, to shake the residue of the dream world from her head, to see Angela's expectant face in front of her.

"There was a baby, Ange. Your baby," Alice whispered.

Angela thought her heart might burst at hearing Alice's prediction for her future. More than anything else in the world, Angela wanted someone to love; someone to love her. Salty tears, full of promises of a future in which she would have someone, and someone would have her, slid down her cheeks. Alice had given her the greatest gift of them all – hope.

Alice was happy the vision had been everything Angela had been hoping for, and yet, she could feel the bitter scratch of jealousy under her skin. Alice had long ago resigned herself to a life that would be spent alone. Alone and lonely. When she touched her palm to someone and glimpsed a sliver of their future, full of the very desires and dreams she denied herself, it made her insides ache. Like always, Alice pushed the green ugliness of her emotions away and gave Angela a smile.

There was a new spring in Angela's step as she left Alice's house that night, but for Alice, her departure left the house feeling more void and empty than laughed ruefully as she considered how ironic it was that it was only her own future that would always remain out of her sight. Alice couldn't help but resent the fact her gift, her means of survival, didn't work on herself, but then, perhaps she didn't really want to see confirmation that her life would always be this way; that she would always be alone. Perhaps it was better that her own future would always be out of her sight.

As Angela left Alice's small cottage, Jasper Whitlock was lying on the hard motel bed trying to get the image of the tiny girl he had seen in the supermarket out of his head. Under the harsh fluorescent glare, she had seemed so small, so timid – like a mouse that might skitter away at the slightest of noises. He'd seen the incident with the blonde woman, seen the girl fold in on herself, the look of resignation on her face; _like she_ _deserved it_. But most of all, Jasper couldn't shake the feelings of desperation and need that had washed over him as he watched her; the feelings that clung to him still.

Jasper had spent so long wandering aimlessly from place to place that he found it hard to answer when people asked him where he was from. Jasper's heart may have forgotten the southern town from which he hailed, but his accent hadn't, and it betrayed his origins whenever he opened his mouth. Not that this happened often, for Jasper was not one for idle chit chat and preferred to shun the company of others in favor of spending his time alone. Jasper, like Alice, did his best to live with the knowledge that he was somehow different; that he had a gift, a talent, an affliction. Absorbing the emotions of others - good and bad – was exhausting, suffocating, and he found it easier to simply be tied to the weight of his own emotions.

The next night, while Alice once again washed grime and grease from dirty dinner dishes, Jasper came to the diner. As he walked in the door, he was once again battered by intense feelings of loneliness and need, the strength of them reverberating through his body, making him unsteady on his feet. He recognized it immediately as coming from the girl he'd seen the previous day.

The sensation of absorbing other people's emotions was, for Jasper, akin to standing in a shock wave. Emotions felt like waves, rippling through his consciousness, surging over him before dying away like a swell crashing to shore. The small girl on the other side of the wall was crushing him like a tidal wave. The need to go to her, to give her whatever it took to take away the sense of desolation that was ripping through him, was almost overwhelming. Jasper had spent a lifetime shying away from others, always trying to escape the turmoil of being assaulted by emotions without context, but, for once, he wanted to be pulled in. Inexplicable as it was, he wanted her. He couldn't even see her, and yet, the desire to be with her burned in the back of his throat like a thirst that only she could quench.

When Alice finished her shift, she found a young man leaning against the outside of the building. He was wearing faded jeans, cowboy boots and a look of expectation as she exited the diner; like he was waiting for her.

"You've kept me waiting a long time," he drawled as she approached.

"I'm sorry?" Alice said as she glanced over her shoulder, expecting to see someone behind her.

"I'm Jasper," he said**,** as he pushed himself off the wall to standing, seemingly oblivious to her confusion.

Without stopping to make sense of what she was doing, she replied, "Alice."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Alice. Shall we?" He held out his arm as if for Alice to lead the way.

As shocking as it was to have this stranger apparently waiting for _her_, something about him was intriguing, compelling and she couldn't shake the feeling that - as odd as it was that he was here - it was also right; safe. Nothing had ever seemed so right. As they walked, Alice couldn't stop herself from stealing glances at him, memorizing the way his golden hair framed his face, the clear ocean blue depths of his eyes, the faintest whisper of stubble along the sharpness of his jaw. He was beautiful, and a strange unfamiliar stirring inside Alice surprised her. He glanced over at her, with a half crooked grin that stole the breath out of her lungs, and fell into an easy gait beside her.

When they made it home to Alice's cottage, Jasper followed her inside like it was the natural thing to do, like he had done so many times before. The rational part of Alice knew that she should be alarmed or nervous about what might happen with this strange, yet oddly familiar, man, but Alice didn't want to be reclusive or restrained. Alice wanted excitement, she wanted to dare to be daring ,and the attraction she felt to the young man in front of her was making her stomach flip and her palms sweat.

Jasper groaned as Alice's desire swept over him. Clenching his fists against his side, he fought against the urge to launch himself at her and have her up against the kitchen bench; to pound into her hard and give himself completely to the rawness of her need. Thankful for the years of practice at controlling himself, Jasper took a deep breath and walked slowly, purposefully, over to where Alice stood. The southern gentleman that was buried deep within him knew she was small and fragile and deserved better than a rough, raw fuck.

Alice watched Jasper approaching her, the rising excitement inside her making her breath ragged. It was such a foreign feeling to be excited, to feel real, to feel alive. To be _with_ someone.

As Jasper reached out and ran his hand through her long black hair, cradling the back of her neck, all qualms and hesitations melted away as Alice surrendered to the desire that was liquefying between her legs. Jasper leaned down, bringing his face slowly to meet hers, their lips meeting together, hot and soft and the taste of him; woodsmoke and leather.

Alice bought her hands to Jasper's face, reveling in the feel of the bristles under her fingertips as she swept them across his jaw. She pushed her hand through his unruly hair, pulling him closer as his kiss grew more insistent. His lips claimed hers, his tongue sweeping against hers as the need began to throb and pulse inside her.

Jasper could barely keep on his feet as Alice's lust began to build. His own desire was hard and aching, tight against faded denim, and he couldn't stop himself from grinding against her; this delicate girl who was standing with him now, offering herself up to a perfect stranger. So fragile, so trusting. Part of him wanted to wrap her up in whispered promises and never let her go. The other part wanted to claim her, make her his, just like she had made him hers, just like she had captured him.

Alice whimpered against Jasper's mouth as his hand slipped under her shirt and caressed the side of her breast, the sound nearly pushing his control to the limit. He had to have her, now.

"Bedroom?" he murmured against her skin as he licked his way up her neck to nuzzle on her earlobe.

Alice leaned away and tugged on the front of Jasper's teeshirt, her mouth seeking out his again as she walked backwards, pulling him along with her. At her bedroom door, she finally let him go, turning around and walking into her room. Jasper flinched at the loss of contact, and walked quickly behind her to wrap his arms around her waist, bending so he could kiss the back of her neck. Slowly he undid the buttons of her shirt, peeling it off her from behind, before sucking, kissing, nibbling, every inch of skin he could find.

Alice spun around, suddenly desperate to have Jasper in her sight again. The longing and lust in his eyes made her knees weak and she tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head in one motion. She ran her hands over Jasper's chest, marveling at how smooth it was, how her fingertips made his nipples harden with just the slightest touch.

Jasper didn't want to wait any longer to have Alice naked beneath him, the feel of her soft skin under his hands and her moans in his ear. He pushed his leg between hers, making her step backwards, her knees buckling as they hit the edge of the bed behind her. She lay back on the bed, watching him with hooded eyes as he used her new position to remove her jeans and panties, pulling them from her before quickly ridding himself of his own, and then crawling back up her body to return his mouth to hers. Jasper hissed as he lay his chest on hers, the feel of her silky skin pressed against him as perfect as he had imagined.

As Jasper kissed her again, he tried to cut through his own lust, searching for the emotions Alice was experiencing. Was she nervous? Afraid even? Was he pushing her too fast?

Relief swept over him as he realized Alice was feeling everything he was. She wanted this to happen as much as he did.

"You're not nervous?" he asked, as he hovered over her, posing it like a question even though he already knew the answer.

Alice gazed up at the impossibly beautiful man poised above her. She knew she probably should be apprehensive, but everything about what was happening felt so right, it hadn't really occurred to her to feel anything but desire and elation.

"No, " she answered truthfully. "It's been awhile, but no, I'm not nervous, not with you."

The grin he gave her then made her heart swell, and she kissed him again, trying to convey how much she wanted him, wanted this.

Jasper felt her sudden wave of need and swept his hands down her body, down to where she needed him most. If there had been any doubt in his mind, it disappeared when his fingers slipped over her wet heat, when he felt how ready she was for him. Wanting to explore every curve and contour of her body, Jasper pushed his fingers inside her, eliciting a throaty moan from Alice in return.

Alice felt like every nerve ending in her body was electrified as Jasper touched her, pushing and pulling against the hot and swollen flesh of her most sensitive place. Pleasure rolled off her as she wondered if it had ever felt this good before. No, she decided. The few encounters she had experienced had not made her feel like this, like she was being worshiped. Jasper rubbed his thumb over her clit, making her back arch off the bed, and she was surprised to feel her body beginning to tense, that she was close to orgasm already.

Jasper broke his kiss suddenly. "Whitlock. Jasper Whitlock," he said as he leaned over her, smiling as her body began to shake and writhe beneath him. Not letting up the pace of his movements, he continued, "I thought you might like to know my full name before you come all over my fingers," and, with that, he curled his fingers around and pushed hard, grinning as Alice exploded beneath him.

He kissed her then, slowly and softly, as she came down from her high, waiting till her breathing returned to a normal pace before he pulled away to smile at her.

"That was...," Alice whispered.

"Amazing." Jasper finished for her. Right then, Jasper couldn't imagine anything that could rival the raw and primal beauty of Alice coming undone beneath him. She was captivating, and he wondered if he would ever be able to get enough of her. He was certain this irresistible pull to be with her would never fade.

Jasper suddenly rolled her on top of himself, and she curled her body into his as she leaned over to kiss him. His body now stretched before her and Alice let her hands explore, tracing the muscles of his chest with her fingers, the fine hairs on his pelvis tickling her wrist as she stretched her hand down. Alice smiled into Jasper's mouth as he groaned, her hand feathering lightly over his straining erection. She wrapped her hand around him then, twisting her hand as she moved it up, pushing her thumb over the top of his head as she glided back down again. The little noises of pleasure Jasper was making and the erratic movements of his hand over her back made Alice's skin tingle, the throbbing between her legs returning quickly as she realized how much he was enjoying her touch. Empowered, she moved her hand faster, squeezing lightly on every pass.

Just when she thought he might be close to release, Jasper pulled her hand away, panting hard and sitting up quickly before picking up his jeans from the pile of clothes at the side of the bed. Confused, Alice sat up, wondering what Jasper was doing rifling through his jeans pockets. He pulled out a worn and faded leather wallet, producing a red foil square from its depths. He held it up to her questioningly and she laughed, relaxing back on the bed as Jasper sat on the edge of the bed to roll the condom down his length.

He turned and crawled up her body, planting soft wet kisses up her legs, pausing when he got to the juncture of her thighs. Alice gasped as Jasper's tongue licked slowly up her slit, the feel of his stubble against her inner thighs a delicious torture that set her body alight.

He continued kissing up her body, pausing when he reached her breast to take her nipple in his mouth. Alice couldn't help but rock her body against his, gripping handfuls of his hair as he bit down hard, then covered the pain with soft kisses. She gasped as he moved further up her body to lick her neck, causing his length to push against her.

Alice could hardly believe that only a few hours ago she had been elbow deep in a sink full of bubbles and now she was lying under the sexiest man she had ever seen, having the most erotic experience of her life. It was almost too good to be true, and she wondered if this was somehow all a wonderful, mind-blowing dream; one that she didn't ever want to wake from.

Jasper slid his hands down her arms as he slowly pushed himself inside her. His hands found hers and he pushed them above her head, pinning her underneath him as he thrust forward, stretching, filling, completing her. He pulled almost all of the way out before sliding back into her, his hand locking in hers, pushing her down into the mattress.

Alice's vision blurred slightly, Jasper's face hazy and distorted, the room beginning to fold in around her.

_No, not now_ she thought desperately. She struggled to catch her breath, yanking her palm from out of Jasper's grasp, instead grabbing his wrists as he continued to thrust into her with long deep strokes.

Jasper heard himself groaning as he pushed into Alice, her tight wet heat enveloping and embracing him. Everything about her was perfect. He'd never felt so captured by anyone before and he never wanted to leave her. Never wanted to let her go. She was his life now.

He quickened his pace, pushing himself up so his hands could rest beside her face. He gazed down at her, seeing his own rapture reflected in her eyes, her tiny hands pressing down on his back, urging him to take her, consume her. He wanted to do just that. Not even being deep inside her was close enough, he would crawl right under her skin if he could. He saw the urgency in her face and it pushed him to move harder, faster.

Alice could feel another climax bubbling under her skin, and she clutched to Jasper as he drove into her, unrelenting, passionate. His earlier words echoed in her mind. He said he had been waiting for her, but now she was sure that in fact _he _was everything she had been waiting her whole life to find. As her mind began to imagine Jasper being by her side forever, he reached down to lift her leg and slid it over his shoulder. The new angle pushed her over the edge and she cried out as another wave of pleasure ripped through her.

Jasper couldn't hold himself back any longer, coming hard as he watched the beautiful abandon of Alice's climax. She was everything he had ever wanted.

After that night, Jasper never left, and it never occurred to either of them that he would. He moved into her small house with a comfortable ease, the rooms no longer echoing and empty, his presence filling the void that had haunted her life. During the day, his long borne habit for silence and solitude fit her like a glove, wrapping her in the reassurance of her own familiar habits. During the night, their bodies came together like they were made for each other, unrelenting passion chasing away the darkness that had been Alice's only companion before Jasper's appearance in her life.

Jasper soon found that Alice's engulfing and desperate need was sated, soothed by the completeness he offered her. The pull he felt towards her never waned, and he was drawn to her in ways he had never been drawn to anyone before. Jasper had spent his life running from the emotions of others, and yet he found himself wanting never to leave her, wanting to immerse himself in the sea of her feelings, whatever they may be. He completed her, filled every last corner of want and loneliness in her life and answered her every desire. She was the connection, the home, that Jasper had spent his life looking for.

Alice's intuition told her that Jasper was her soul mate, and she found her memories of years spent alone becoming faded and dull. All that mattered now was that Jasper was here and Jasper wanted to be with her; just for her. Afraid that if she told Jasper about her gift he, too,  
would want to steal away snippets of his future from her; afraid that if she did so she would never really know if he wanted her or wanted something from her - Alice chose to tell Jasper only about the tarot.

She kept her gift and her secret held tight to her chest.

Alice continued to see her visitors, and if they had taken the time to really see the girl in front of them, they would have noticed how she had changed; a glow of contentment in her face, her shoulders a little straighter, her voice a little louder. A girl who now dared to hope that one day her own future might mirror those moments she glimpsed in the touch of her palm.

As she lay in bed one night, she once again found herself thinking back to the day that Jasper had found her, the day that happiness had found her. She remembered the feeling of rightness and peace that had washed over her from that very first moment, the desire and lust that had exploded out of nowhere, the feeling of completeness when Jasper walked through her door into her home, into her life. She remembered their first night together, the awakening of her body's deepest desires as Jasper had ignited her flesh with his touch, her heart racing and bursting from her chest as their bodies had joined together. She remembered the flash that had come to her as Jasper had slid his hands into hers. The moment had been so quick, so fleeting, the images had flickered past too fast; elusive, tantalizing, just out of reach.

Alice smiled as she thought about her love for Jasper. She knew that now they had found each other, she could never let him go. She could never go back to a life that didn't have him in it. She wondered what the future would hold for them. Her mind filled with questions, dreams and the endless possibilities that might come from spending the rest of her life with Jasper by her side. Images of a long and happy life together flooded her mind. Alice realized with a start why people continued to seek her out, why her gift was so appealing – the little pieces of future she could offer them – they held the answers to the very questions which were keeping her awake.

She gasped as she considered what she might see if she put her palm in Jasper's. She wanted so badly for Jasper to be happy, and for her to be happy with him; forever. A little peek would console all of her curiosity, and it wasn't as if he would ever need to know what she had done.

It would be her little secret.

As she listened to the beat of Jasper's labored breathing, Alice leaned over his slumbering body and quietly touched her hand to his. When he didn't stir, she carefully cradled his hand in hers, slipping her other hand into his palm.

Palm to palm, future to future.

_Jasper; grey hair framing his face; laugh lines etched over his tanned skin; beautiful still - even after time has had her way with him_.

_Jasper; laughing, smiling, reaching out lovingly to touch someone's face_.

Alice gasped, yanking her hand from Jasper's, severing the connection so quickly it made her head spin. She could feel herself becoming quickly overwhelmed with emotion and got out of bed in case she woke Jasper. Safely in the silence of her kitchen, she thought about what she had seen in Jasper's future. Jasper's hand cradling the face of an old woman, grey and wrinkled. An old woman's happy face.

Her face. Her future.

Tears of joy slipped down her cheeks as she realized Jasper was everything she had ever hoped for; he made her happy and complete, now and forever.

Alice's revelation buoyed the couple to newfound happiness. Jasper saturated himself in Alice's love and contentment, and the home they made together was full of laughter and joy. They spent hours planning adventures to exotic countries, talking of their dreams and aspirations for their life together, happy and satisfied that all they would ever need in life was each other.

Alice didn't intend to steal another look in Jasper's future, but one night as he lay sleeping next to her, his hand lying upturned on the sheet, she couldn't help but wonder what else she might see. Before she really realized what she had done, her palm was pressed to his. The images of Jasper, his arm around her shoulder, as they both gazed at the beautiful foreign beach in front of them, made her heart swell. Knowing they would be happy, that they would someday visit the places they had talked about, that they would follow their dreams, made her impossibly happy. The vision of her own happily-ever-after left her feeling secure, safe, alive.

She wanted to feel like that all the time.

It became all too easy for Alice to steal glimpses of future from Jasper as he slept. Soon, it wasn't accidental or occasional or done because she was simply curious. Alice just couldn't get enough of the feelings of euphoria that would wash over her after seeing her future happiness play out before her eyes. The little fix of happiness that she would take from Jasper every night became her drug of choice, her own personal brand of heroin.

Every night she would fight off sleep, no matter how exhausted she might be, to wait for Jasper to drift off to sleep first. Every night she would take his hand in hers. Every night she would peek into the future. Every night she would sleep soundly, reassured that her future was safe, secure in the knowledge that nothing in their future had changed.

"Because futures do have a way of changing." Alice could almost hear the echo of her grandmother's voice. She had often spoken to Alice about the gift they both shared. The future they saw, was the future from _that _moment forward. Something could still happen to change the vision, change the future- nothing was set in stone. As much as Alice wanted to ignore her grandmother's teachings, at the back of her mind she knew that, while she could see _now _that things were going to wonderful, it didn't mean that it would always be the case.

Worry began to gnaw at Alice's stomach, insistent and relentless. She countered the unwanted feelings by spending longer and longer wrapped in Jasper's future, reveling in the afterglow of her visions, trying to block out the unease which crept in the recesses of her mind.

Weeks went by before Alice realized a night never went by without her indulging in her habit. Like a true addict, she had been oblivious to her own behavior. The very thought of not spending her nights embraced in Jasper's future love for her made her stomach turn. The thought of what she had become made her anxious and guilty.

A part of Alice longed to tell Jasper what she could do and about what her gift had shown her. There was a part of her that longed to tell him everything. She wanted to share with him the wondrous things they would do together, share with him how happy they would be, even after all those years. Tell him that they would be happy, for the rest of their lives.

But how could she explain how she had kept this secret from him, how she had stolen moments from him without him knowing? The thought of how he might react to her confession scared her.

She just couldn't bring herself to tell him.

The weight of her secret became a burden that hung around Alice's neck like an anchor pulling her into the depths. She began to feel guilty for everything she had done and everything she hadn't said. She wondered how she had come to betray the trust of the one person in her life that loved her because of her, not because of her gift.

The gift that she couldn't help but use every night. Guilty as she was, it wasn't enough to make her stop.

Jasper was surprised to feel a new emotion rolling off Alice. At first, it was nothing more than the slightest of whispers, and Jasper thought that perhaps he'd misinterpreted what it was he was experiencing. Every day the whisper grew stronger, and the prickliness of guilt was unmistakable. Jasper's heart sank as he considered all the reasons that Alice might be feeling guilty. Was she cheating? Did she not love him anymore?

No, Jasper knew that Alice loved him more than he could ever verbalize. Every morning he woke, warm and comforted by the thick blanket of love that she projected out to him. She loved him without a doubt, and he knew there was no one else. For his part, he loved Alice too, with everything he had. He vowed that whatever had happened for Alice to feel this way, he would understand. Their love was unshakable, and he knew they would get through whatever it was. Jasper was confident Alice would tell him when she was ready.

But Alice couldn't bring herself to tell Jasper.

The longer she kept her secret, the bigger it became, until it was so large it seemed insurmountable. As the gravity of what she was keeping from him grew, so did her feelings of guilt. Jasper could no longer ignore that Alice was keeping something big from him.

Alice's anxiety only abated for those moments when her hand locked with Jasper's under the cover of darkness. Desperate for reassurance that the future still held those magical moments of love, of togetherness, of fulfillment, Alice grasped at the visions of Jasper's future with new vigor and need. What she found there did little to ease the disquiet that fluttered in her stomach. She could see that future-Jasper was still happy, but she could no longer see herself.

Night after night, Alice clutched Jasper's hand, hoping to see replays of those happy moments she had memorized. Moments of her and Jasper, together, but it was always the same. Jasper's future didn't include her anymore.

Alice's anguish manifested itself as possessiveness, and she took to clinging to Jasper as she slept, like she was trying to anchor him in place. Every day, she would do everything she could think of to make Jasper love her even more. She cooked his favorite meals, bought him gifts, seduced him, anything that might make him realize they were meant to be together. Forever.

Every night Alice was left disappointed. The visions that had bought her such joy were no longer a comfort. Nothing she did changed the fact that Jasper's future was slipping from her grasp.

When Alice's desperation began to surge over him, Jasper resigned himself to the fact that, for whatever reason, Alice was no longer happy. The undying love he felt sure would see them through any hurdle no longer seemed certain. As much as he had tried to fix Alice's pain with words of love, clutching her to his chest whenever the light seemed to fade from her eyes, it was never enough. Once, he had wanted to immerse himself in her emotions, bask in everything she had to give. Now he felt like she was drowning him. The burden of her insecurities weighing him down every time he tried to rise above it and catch his breath.

More and more, Jasper found himself thinking about the freedom of the open road and how much he had enjoyed cruising highways with no plans, no destinations, no burdens. Carefree. Alone.

As Jasper fantasized about taking up a life on the road again, Alice wallowed in her despair. As futile as it seemed to be, she continued to hold a little candle of hope that the future would change, that her visions might still show her heart's desire. Instead, it was almost as if they were stuck on repeat. All she ever saw now was the same image of Jasper driving away. Driving away and leaving her.

Jasper endured a few more weeks of absorbing the miserable waves that echoed off Alice's vulnerable body. The futility of trying to fight for what was already lost, finally sank in and, with a heavy heart, Jasper resolved to leave.

Alice knew the instant that Jasper reached his decision. The sadness in his eyes, the set of his shoulders, the resignation in the tone of his voice. Her heart ached as she thought about everything they could have had together, everything her life was going to be missing with him not in it, the emptiness that would return to haunt her.

Alice was convinced that Jasper's departure would truly be the end of her.

The next morning, Alice rose earlier than normal, sliding herself out of bed carefully while Jasper still slept beside her. She snuck out of the house, pulling the door shut silently and tiptoeing down the drive to unlock the side door to the garage. Inside, Jasper's ancient red truck was sitting silent and tomb-like, its huge expanse seemingly filling every inch of the musty garage. Jasper's keys weighed heavy in her hand, the St. Christopher talisman she had given him cutting into her palm as she stood by the driver's door and considered what she was about to do. What she was about to do for _them._ Jasper couldn't leave her. They were made for each other, they made each other happy - she had seen it, she knew it was true. If only she could get him to stay and talk with her, she would tell him everything - all of it. It would make everything better; if they just talked, if she could just tell him her secret. She would make him see how happy they were meant to be.

Determined, Alice unlocked the driver's door and pulled the lever which would pop the hood. She lifted it up, wincing as the sound of groaning metal cut through the suffocating silence. She had never really looked under a hood before, and was surprised there were so many pipes and wires and oddly shaped metal pieces. Cars had always seemed complicated to her, and the jumble of motor parts in front of her only made her feel confused and inadequate. Frantically, she grabbed at whatever she could reach, only satisfied when she felt the wires tear away in her hand.

Alice sighed. He would have to stay now.

She crept back inside the house, careful to replace Jasper's keys in exactly the same spot on the bench she had taken them from. She knew Jasper would wake soon, and instead of going back to bed, she decided to make him breakfast. Bacon and eggs were his favorite, and she would make it for him today. Talking was always easier on a full stomach, Alice thought to herself as she turned the coffee machine on. She could almost feel the sadness lifting from her now that she had a plan for saving them, and she hummed to herself as she fried the eggs the way she knew Jasper liked.

Alice didn't realize Jasper had been awake early too, and had already packed the few possessions he'd brought with him to Alice's house. As he walked through the house, the smell of cooking bacon wafted to him and he almost wavered. Deep down, Jasper knew a cooked breakfast wasn't going to fix this mess. He had to go.

He took a deep breath before coming into the kitchen to face Alice.

"I'm leaving, Alice," he said quickly, not wanting to draw the hideous thing out any longer than he needed to.

"I know," said Alice. She stayed where she was, staring out the window, not turning around to face him. It would hurt too much to see him standing there with his bags packed.

She heard him sigh, and then the sound of his cowboy boots descending the steps outside. She waited a few moments before turning around, her heart in her mouth, butterflies in her stomach. Any minute now he would find out what she had done, he would come back inside to see her and then they would talk. Then it would all be fixed. She was nervous, excited, for the first time in a long time, she was feeling hopeful.

Alice was not at all prepared for the sound of Jasper's truck roaring to life.

She rushed outside as Jasper carefully reversed his truck out of the garage, the window open as he leaned out to guide it down the narrow driveway.

"Please, you can't leave, not like this, " she begged frantically as she clutched at his arm.

"I'm sorry, Alice," was all that Jasper could say in return. He willed himself not to look in Alice's eyes, not to lose himself in the memories of the happier times they had shared together. There had been a time when they had it all, but now it was broken beyond repair. Now there was nothing to do but leave.

Alice was sobbing now, hysterical. He could barely work out the words which tumbled incoherently from her. She grabbed onto his arm, running alongside the truck as he continued to reverse it. He couldn't look at her in this state. It would break him.

As he pulled the truck away from her, she gripped onto his hand in a futile attempt to stop his departure, but there was nothing that could make him stay now. It was over. Jasper could hear Alice's brokenhearted cries as her hand slipped away from his.

Turning the truck and driving away from her was the hardest thing that Jasper had ever done. As hard as it was, it had to be this way. He couldn't stay and disintegrate under Alice's misery. He loved her, and he wanted to hold onto that feeling for the rest of his life. Staying here with her would surely see the destruction of that, too. This was the only way he could hold onto his love for her forever.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, as he drove away down the street.

Behind him, Alice fell to the ground, her body shaking uncontrollably as her sobs wracked her tiny body.

When she had clutched at Jasper's hand their palms had touched, giving her one last fleeting moment with his future.

One final glimpse, one final goodbye.

The image she had seen of Jasper, bloodied and broken, lying in the tangled wreckage of his truck, would be burned on her heart forever.

_She'd never given much thought to how he would die._

_Perhaps she just assumed he would grow old gracefully and die peacefully in his sleep._

_After all, she had seen him as an old man once. Happy in the arms of the woman he had found one random day long ago, the woman he loved with every bone in his body. _

_Even when things had changed before her eyes, an old man he still became, alone this time but still beautiful, still happy._

_Certainly she never really entertained the idea his life could be violently cut short. Never thought she would see his damaged body, lost forever in a pile of twisted debris._

_But then, futures do have a way of changing._


End file.
